


Break. Alleviate

by TheBlueSheep



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Gen, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueSheep/pseuds/TheBlueSheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 10 years, the effects are still there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break. Alleviate

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally sent for Gintoki Appreciation Day on tumblr, but because tumblr is a piece of shit, it didn't go up. Anyway, all things considered, maybe it was for the best because, well, this is not exactly a birthday fic and next too all that amazing art and fics and everything that was submitted, this one is kinda gloomy. But, well, it wasn't originally even written as a birthday fic, so yeah. But 10th of October was still an amazing day to spend on tumblr! And I'm rambling. So yeah.

He falls to his knees, hands shaking, eyes glassy and dull. He knows Shinpachi and Kagura will be back soon and doesn’t want them to see him like this, but he can’t help it. He can’t function anymore, his body is frozen, his mind empty blank of all rational thought, filled only with the gruesome images from a battlefield. He tries to fight back, tries to stay in the present, but the smell of rotting bodies, gunpowder, and fresh blood is filling his lungs and he can’t see the room around him anymore. He hears yelling, everywhere, his comrades, friends, desperately crying for help. A flash of light from somewhere, and that new Amanto laser weapon kills hundreds of them, cutting them in half, others losing heads, limbs, all in a matter of just a few seconds. The agonized screaming around him is cut short with another flash of light. Amazingly he is left untouched by it, kneeling in the dirt mixed with blood in the middle of a field of corpses. His sword is not by his side, he has to find his sword, has to get it back and protect what’s left, but he can’t move. He can’t even properly feel his body, his senses are overwhelmed, and he knows there is something horribly wrong but he can’t think enough to understand. He feels cold, it’s like being paralyzed. Someone is calling his name from so very far, and he wants to answer, he really does, but can’t open his mouth.

Something suddenly splashes on his face. It’s blood, _of course it’s blood, what else could it be,_ and it shocks him enough that he can open his mouth and scream. He only sees black and red and there are arms around him keeping him from moving, but the arms cannot be living because there are no living left. He has to get away, but the hold they have on him is too strong, he can’t break free. There is another pair of hands on his cheeks and he desperately shakes his head to try to get them off… and then he realises it.

The hands are warm.

And he realises that the ones calling his name are, in fact, so very close.

This hits him hard and he abruptly stops screaming. Blinks a few times.

One world slowly overlaps with another and he thinks he sees a flash of red where it shouldn’t be and a pair of shiny circular objects.

Glasses and red hair.

Why would there be red hair and a pair of glasses floating in front of him in the middle of a battlefield? He feels like there is a completely logical explanation for this surrealistic phenomenon, but it reluctantly keeps itself just out of his reach.

He gathers up what is left of his battered senses and forces himself to take deep breaths, closing his eyes for a moment.

When he opens them again he sees and hears things more clearly. He remembers that the battlefield is not a reality, it’s just a memory. It’s still stark and picking at the edges of his consciousness – the corpses of his comrades and the coppery smell of fresh blood is not easy to forget – but it’s not overpowering him anymore. He can somewhat think again.

The red hair slowly connects with Kagura and the floating glasses with Shinpachi. It takes a moment longer for the worried look in the boy’s eyes to register. He’s talking about something, but Gintoki doesn’t really feel like following his words just yet. Kagura is holding him still with a hug – so that’s why he couldn’t break free. Years of war has given him complete trust in his own strength and abilities, but pitted purely physically against a Yato, he loses miserably.

They have seen it happen once before, so they know what to do. Someone slips an arm around him and helps him up, half drags to the couch, and forces him to sit on it. He can’t really tell who it is, because the movement made his already fucked up senses even worse. He can tell when a cool glass with water is pressed in his hands, so he takes a few careful sips. It gets a little better when he leans back. At least the world mostly stops spinning and the water soothes down the foul taste in his mouth. Then he gives the glass back and Kagura sets it on the table.

He nods when they ask if he’s okay, but when Shinpachi hands him a towel, he stares at it blankly.

“You’re wet,” Shinpachi hints softly, and a trickle of blood– no, _water_ running down his face proves the boy’s point.

“Ah,” Gintoki agrees. His voice wavers a little, so he doesn’t try saying anything else.

“Sorry about that. You just, ah, wouldn’t snap out of it,” Shinpachi adds conversationally as Gintoki dries his face and hair with the towel. He wishes Shinpachi hadn’t said that, wishes that he wouldn’t try to get him to talk, but he still forgives the water with a nod.

“Gin-chan, you should lie down,” Kagura says. “You look even paler than me. You can’t have more perfect skin than the lady of the house, yes?”

She gently pushes his shoulder until he flops down onto the couch and is mildly surprised when his head hits a soft pillow. He didn’t notice when it got there.

“Kagura-chan, your sense of fashion is outdated.”

“I don’t wanna hear that from a character who’s only noticeable because of his glasses.”

“There is more to me than just my glasses, Kagura-chan,” Shinpachi sighs with vague irritation and Gintoki snorts quietly. To be honest, both their jokes are a bit outdated, but he doesn’t really mind. It helps bringing him back to reality.

His mind has calmed down, but his instincts are still screaming of danger and he has survived far too many battles to not listen what his instincts tell him. Ignoring the streak of pain running up his leg – that damn Tendoshu bastard really gave him trouble back then – he pulls his feet up and squirms around until finding comfort in something akin to a fetal position. With his old habits kicking in against his will, this position feels safer. He remembers that it always was better to sleep that way; it made him smaller and easier for inattentive eyes to miss.

A minute later Shinpachi comes and puts a heavy blanket over him and Gintoki hates how much better it makes him feel, he hates how dependant on the feeling of safety he is right now, and he hates how _understanding_ Shinpachi and Kagura are about this whole thing. But most of all he hates how he can do nothing at all about any of that. He doesn’t like being this pathetic when there are people around.

Shinpachi crouches down next to the couch and speaks softly, “Gin-san, I’ll leave the water right here on the table, alright? Try to rest a little. We’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Gintoki nods, pulls the blanket a little further up until it covers his mouth and ears, and closes his eyes. Only when the warmth of the blanket reaches him and his muscles finally relax, he realises he was still shivering slightly.

Shinpachi and Kagura retreat to the kitchen to talk with hushed tones, but he doesn’t try to listen. He already knows what they’re talking about. After a few minutes they come back, Kagura turns on the TV keeping the sound low but not muted, and Shinpachi starts moving around probably collecting trash or whatever it is that Shinpachi does again. Overall it’s not really quiet in the Yorozuya, but the usually so loud noises are all muffled, so it isn’t disturbing. Far from it, these homely sounds are nothing like the ones on the battlefields. These sounds are soothing.

Gradually breathing gets easier, the feeling of danger fades, and soon a comfortable exhaustion sets in. About half an hour later Gintoki feels like he might be calmed down enough to actually fall asleep, but then he hears Shinpachi dialling a number on the phone.

“I’m sorry, Aneue, but I’m afraid I won’t be home for dinner...” The boy talks quietly, but close enough that Gintoki hears it all. “Yes, I know I will miss your tamagoyaki, but Gin-san isn’t feeling well. I think I’d better stay here tonight, just in case... Ah, no, please do not bother yourself, we can cook... N-No, _of course_ I enjoy your cooking, Aneue, I just believe it’s better if it’s quiet here in the Yorozuya for now… No, he’s alright. He’s just sleeping now... Yes, don’t worry, I’ll tell him not to eat so many sweets the next time... Alright, well, I will see you tomorrow then.” Shinpachi hangs up, then sighs in relief. “Haaa, saved...”

“Using Gin-chan’s downtime to escape Boss Lady’s dinner, yes?” Kagura says from the other couch. “That’s low even for you, Shinpachi.”

“What do you mean, even for me? I will use anything to escape Aneue’s dinner. I’m sure Gin-san doesn’t mind,” Shinpachi defends himself.

Gintoki would actually protest at being used like that even if it would be just to get on the brats’ nerves, but he really owes it to them this time, Shinpachi and Kagura both. He will have to make it up to them tomorrow.

Maybe actually help out with a job or cook something special. Make sure he has plenty of extra rice for Kagura and put aside some side dishes for Shinpachi to take home with him later. He hasn’t done so for a while anyway and he knows that the brats love his cooking even if they never admit it.

And with those thoughts sleep finally claims him and snuffs out the still a little too bright world around him.


End file.
